Aftermath
by bannananutmuffinsyum
Summary: A short fic following the aftermath of 8.03, spoilers inside. The interactions of the survivors we've seen so far. Mostly Stark family centric.
1. Jon & Arya

Obviously I don't own anything, or else a lot would be so different, but I'm thankful for the characters we have. Might be a one shot but I do have more story coming.

When the dragon burst into shards, Jon knew someone had managed the impossible, he assumed that maybe Theon got a lucky shot, or the dagger he had seen Sansa thrust into Brans hands had come in handier than he could have thought possible. He only took but a moment to himself to sit and breath, the legends had been true, it was an exceptionally long night, at parts too dark that it almost felt as if the light in the world had been sucked into a vast pit never to return. With a final deep breath, he staggered to his feet and waded through the bodies, seeing many faces he knew and many many faces he didn't, it felt almost too surreal.

Hearing a whimper to his left, Jon stooped and started digging through the bodies, to find a young man, maybe not even 16 years old buried at the bottom, he seemed fine over all, just scraps and a few heat burns from being so near the ice dragon's fire.

It seemed like at that moment, some of the many piles around him and the young kid started moving, Jon's grip on his sword strengthened, wondering if it had just been a fluke, that maybe, the Night King had tricked them into a false sense of security so he could thoroughly crush them. But it just turned out to be other survivors. Apparently when the ice dragon had landed, the call went out to shroud themselves under the bodies of those already killed, both wight and those who had once been the living.

When Jon was able to focus his eyes a bit better, be it because of the sudden dawn beginning to filter in, or the tears Jon had been holding in for so long finally escaping, he didn't know. All Jon could feel was relief, that not everyone had died in vain, that there were still living, and though they would be haunted the rest of their days, there was still a group living. Looking around, more men than he thought possible a few moments ago stood all looking towards the east where the sunlight was already painting the sky, most, if not all of the men and women who had taken up arms, had tears on their faces, be it from relief, sorrow, disbelief that they lived, or something else, Jon didn't know.

The creaking of a door behind him shook him out of his momentary revere. A voice made his spine straighten "Well witch, it looks like your senses were right. Now, where did you send the icy little bitch, she had better be alive, or you'll wish one of these fuckers had gotten to you after all." Jon turned towards the voice, it had been Clegane, he was holding his axe threateningly towards the red woman.

She didn't speak, just turned her head slowly towards the large man and then tucked her chin towards her chest in the direction of the Godswood. Clegane growled and moved quicker than Jon could think possible for a man so large. Until he also understood where the witch had been gesturing towards. The Godswood. Bran.

Taking off at almost a dead sprint, Jon ran, sword forgotten, leaping and attempting but failing to maneuver around the dead, in the end having to run over the back of the bodies littering the ground. Skidding to a halt at the front of the entrance, Jon could see a body lying in front of a telling pile of ice. Fear made his blood run colder than he thought possible almost making it impossible to breath. It wasn't until he approached closer that he saw the face of the body. Theon. Jon felt a sob escape him. Even though they had had their differences, he was still a brother to Jon, it hurt more than he thought possible to see him there, sea green eyes still staring ahead. There was a ringing in his ears, everything seemed to get fuzzy around his vision, the only thing he could focus on being Theon laying there with unseeing eyes.

Vaguely he heard voices from somewhere around him, but Jon could barely breath at this point, much less think clearly enough to understand the words being said around him. One voice cut through it all though, clear as day "It was Arya." Bran's voice cut through the haze surrounding Jon's mind. Bran. Bran was alive.

It took a moment, but Jon was finally able to focus his brain on the words themselves. Arya. Jon felt his breath leave his body completely, his entire body felt like his heart had stopped beating. ARYA. His brain yelled at him, to move to do something. Adrenaline burned his veins, when Jon looked up, he wasn't by Theon's body anymore, instead staring at Bran and Sandor as they looked at the ground. Slowly his head tilted to see what they saw. There, next to a lone pile of ice laid out on her back, was Arya.

Walking forward, his knees buckled and he landed next to his little sister, fear crushing him, distress at having almost forgotten about her ran through him. Looking down, he could see her breath, eyes closed, blood coated one side of her face.

He reached forward to touch, but before he landed a finger on her, her eyes popped open at the same time as her hand clutched his wrist, he couldn't move, so struck with something he couldn't even name. She recognized him before he was able to gather his wits again. Slowly moving her hand to meet his, she held on. Sitting up to look him in the eye, they made eye contact, and then she was in his arms, knocking him back onto his ass, he settled her in his lap as they just held one another.

Jon vaguely heard Sandor in the background say something along the lines of "I knew that icy bitch would live." he vaguely saw a motion out of the corner of his eye in which Bran looked towards the large man with a look of disbelief, but ignored it. Jon didn't care for the words, but it would have taken too much energy to argue them, so he just held onto his Arya a little while longer.


	2. Arya & The Plan

Ok, thanks for letting me know about the formatting! hopefully this time around it turns out better :) Also edited it a little bit more in ther early morning hours so hopefully theres a few less oddities.

—-

After what could have been a lifetime but was probably only a few minutes, Jon heard the patter of other peoples feet jogging to join them. Slowly releasing Arya from his arms, but not letting go completely, he looked up to see a small group of survivors, the only warning Jon had to swiftly remove Arya from his lap so she wouldn't be caught up in a tackle, was the loud reverberation of "LITTLE CROW. Jon only managed to get Arya's upper half out of the way before he was tackled to the side by the overexuberant red head, chuckles running through his body, only this wild man touched by fire could possibly have this much energy left after the night they had all had.

Jon saw movement out of the corner of his eye, the blacksmith bastard son had moved forward towards Arya, he felt his chuckles die down as he watched Gendry reach purposely under Arya's arms and pull her legs out from between himself and Tormund. She had had a grin on her face up to that point, but now they just stared into one another's eyes like he imagined he once had with Ygritte. Shock coursed through him, followed by distrust, brought to fruition when Gendry bent his head down and gave a passionate kiss to Arya.

Jon's instincts took over attempting to push the large man off of him so he could wring the little punks neck, but the Hound beat him to it, with a growl, he managed to pick up the blacksmith by the back of his neck and bared his teeth. By the time Jon was standing, Tormund was still lying on the ground like he couldn't believe he'd been thrown to the side. He felt the first words he'd spoken since the end of the battle rattle through him "What the hell do you think you're doing Baratheon?" for in his mind, the blacksmith had been a Baratheon since the moment he went beyond the wall with them all, but kissing his sister like that, well, he was about to fully wipe out the rest of the damned stag line.

Arya chuckled before speaking, her voice ragged from where the Night King had held her throat, "we still have work to do. Jon, take Gendry to find your dragon queen, you can glare at him on the way there. Hound, go with Jaime and Podrick, see if you can gather the rest of the survivors, they might be hidden beneath bodies, so put that strength of yours to good use. Brienne, and Tormund is it?" Arya directed the question at the red head now laying on his side like Arya had seen whores do in the brothels of Braavos. At his nod she gave a slight nod back before saying "you two will come with me to the crypts." with that, Arya was already walking away from the group of survivors.

Arya only paused in her step when Brienne spoke up, a tremor in her voice, "Surely you don't need both of us for the crypts my lady?"

Arya paused, her head tilted down, "while I laid in wait, I heard the screams. When we claimed the crypts to be safe, we forgot something very important, though they may have been Starks, when the Night King calls his dead, they can do little to resist."

As she walked a few more steps, she stopped aside Grey Worm, "If you wouldn't mind staying with Bran, I would be appreciative." She spoke lowly and in old Valyrian, if Grey Worm was surprised at her knowing the old language, he hid it well. At his solemn nod, she gave a subtle tilt of her head before walking the path riddled with not only the bodies of the dead, but the bones of Winterfell as well.

She was almost out of their sight before she heard a faint "Fuckin cunt." followed by heavy footsteps, the tall tell signs that at least one of the survivors was in motion before a tizzy of sound could be heard behind her.

Soon, Arya felt the quiet and calm presense of Brienne and the warm and affectionate Tormund behind her. She spoke softly, finding the more she spoke, the worse she felt, "Brienne, I'll need you to be the one who calls out to Sansa, I don't quite have the voice to be able to at the moment. Tormund, once the door is opened, you can help me sort through the dead, those who will have come from their sanctums will be easier to tell from those who fell to them tonight. Brienne, please see that all of the survivors are escorted to the banquet hall and the library. They were the least over run and should be easy enough to clear out." with a nod to herself, Arya knew, there was still much to do before they could rest, that while death had already claimed their names, their bodies posed the greatest risk at the moment.

First and foremost was dealing with the sheer stacks of bodies that would need to either be properly buried or burned. Perhaps those freshest could be fed to the dragons, but any that had come the night would need to be taken care of.

Arya could feel the stares on the back of her head as she doled out duties to the two, she trusted most in that moment. Brienne because she was sworn to Sansa, and Tormund because he held affections forbrienne Brienne and Jon. Reaching the door to the crypt, she felt the first inklings of worry enter her bones, hoping that Sansa had stayed safe, she knocked and looked to Brienne for her part. "Lady Sansa, its me, Brienne, its over. Please, open the door." almost immediately, the door's latches could be heard coming undone from the other side.

The door opened a crack, Arya peered Tyrion's dark head peeking through as he showed caution at their knock, but soon the door was thrown open and Arya found herself face to shoulder with her sister.


	3. Sansa & Tyrion

Thanks again for letting me know about the format! Here we go, hopefully editted better as well in gh bright shine of dawn. i dont own these wonderful characters.

have a good one every body!

—

Sansa shuddered in her sisters arms before pulling back but not letting go of Arya's shoulders, "Bran?" she asked, fear almost choking the words from her lips, Arya nodded at her older sister, Sansa could feel relief flood her, before, "Jon?" Arya once again nodded, but this time, Sansa could see a small grin threatening to break free of her face, Sansa felt like her world was whole again. Just allowing herself a moment to breath, her family, was safe.

Before her moment was up, Sansa felt Brienne's gentle hand touch her shoulder. "Let's get everyone somewhere warmer. I warn you my lady, it's a gruesome sight, best we move quickly." Sansa allowed Brienne to guide her away from her sister who turned and nodded at the wildling Jon was so fond of before long, they too had moved away and deeper to the crypts. She felt Tyrion take her hand once more, but couldn't begrudge him enough to withdraw from his hold. They still had the dawn and aftermath to face.

As she looked behind her, Arya and Tormund were hold their arms out and standing in front of some of the more gruesome bodies, guiding the children past without having to witness the bloodshed that night. Turning to look forward, Sansa wished she hadn't. It was more than gruesome, it was like the gods themselves chose Winterfell as their canvas, but only had red and brown paints.

Sansa felt bile rise up into her throat, tears crowded her eyes making it harder to see. She felt Tyrion's grip tighten in solidarity, they had to stay strong for those behind them. She swallowed back her moment, allowed her mask to fall and followed Brienne, only focusing on the Lady Knight's back. She heard the gasps behind them as they moved, but assumed that Arya and Tormund were also behind them guiding everyone out.

The journey itself to the great hall was not bad, it looked like bodies had already been moved to make a path for them, she could vaguely here men towards her left grunting and grumbling, but didn't trust herself to be able to see what they were doing. At least the bodies in the crypts, hadnt had blood, only having been bone and rags, the innards and the smell of blood was what really tilted her axis. Part of her was grateful to Arya, having forced her to the crypts. The other part wishes she had stayed and fought with her people. Looking now, she knew she wouldn't have stood a chance. It hurt her pride a bit, but decided not to dwell, she had a job to do after all.

When they reached the hall, Brienne walked in first, Sansa took a moment and followed, inside, there were not nearly as many bodies, in fact, it would be easy enough to move them out. She understood then why they were brought here instead of anywhere else, this place, the heart of her family's home, still stood.

With a deep breath, Sansa started doling out commands. Hoping that, with something to do, those who had been in the crypts would be able to distract themselves and focus on the tasks at hand. "Those who are able, please help us move some of these bodies, we will stack them into piles, those who have been dead for a while can go on the east side near that door, and those who haven't, can go to the west, we will find their names and make sure they receive proper servicing. If you don't feel comfortable, please help gather the children to the fire, keep them safe, guarded and well distracted. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can all disperse and find others."

Sansa removed her cloak and moved forward, handing it to the Gilly who had been placed in charge of the infants, "please, lay them out in front of the fire on this, warm them, nurture them." she held hands with the wildling for a moment before moving to help move bodies. She saw Tyrion about to make a comment, but wisely chose to keep it to himself.

Moving to the side, she saw the first body, Beric. She sighed before walking around him gathering him under the arms. Slowly she dragged him towards the west side. Halfway there, Varys stooped and gathered the man's legs, helping her immensely. Together, without words, they waddled the man to the west wall and sat him against it. Soon, other bodies began to join him, she helped various others move their chosen, and soon, the center of the hall had been cleared. She moved towards the long tables that had been stacked against the windows to protect them, looking towards Brienne, she nodded her head, and with a joint effort, twelve of them were able to move it to the center of the room.

Brienne started to move to the second table, but Sansa spoke then "Wait. Let's all take a moment if you don't mind. We've all had a bit of a night, let us sit and rest." Sansa spoke clearly, though she felt exhaustion from the terror from the night weighing her down.

Brienne looked like she would argue for a moment, but gave a nod anyway. Striding over to a bench before pulling it forward to the table, she gestured and many of the people who had been in the crypts sat heavily, their heads held in hands as they all held back tears. For those lost, for themselves, for the north.

Sansa felt a shift next to her, Tyrion had made himself more comfortable, looking at the wall as he planned something. Only then did she look around and not see her sister or the wild man. She knew better than to be worried, Arya could handle herself, that much was proved by the lack of blood on her compared to all of the others she had seen that had taken part in the battle. Taking in a deep breath, she moved to stand, but a hand held her arm before much movement. She looked down to Tyrion who was looking at the entrance at the western door. There, other survivors stood, the dragon queen, Jon, the blacksmith, and others she couldn't quite place for names. The Queen looked, broken. Sansa tried not to show her emotions on her face, for though she understood this should be a moment when they all banded together, she couldn't help but relish in the sheer defeated look on the Queens face.

Tyrion was looking at the young Queen, relief filled him to his bones, she was alive looking little worse for wear on the outside, but he could see the turmoil on her face. Something had happened. Looking at the faces near her, did he see, Jon wore a look of determination, slowly they moved and following them, two men held what was sure to be what had tarnished the light in the young queen's eye. Jorah was dead.

Tyrion felt sorrow for his queen, but stood up and made room for her next to his estranged wife. Sansa made to stand as well, tDany held out her hand in a manner as if to tell her to stay put. Jon stayed standing. No one spoke, but Tyrion could feel the tension in the room. Letting out a breath, he sighed saying "well, I knew we would live, though, I do wish there had been a way to have saved more, they will be praised and remebered well for helping in the battle of the long night. We are all stronger, wiser and alive now because of their sacrafices."

Jon looked like he wanted to say something when Greyworm rolled Bran into the room, Missandei was quick to her feet, running towards her partner and leaping into his arms. Greyworm caught her, and Jon was quick to move to push Bran farther into the room and out of the way of their well deserved reunion.

Soon, they were all gathered around the long lone table, Tyrion kept looking to the door, waiting with baited breath for his brother to join them. One by one more survivors came through, but none of them the lion he was looking for. From the corner of his eye, he watched Brienne, for he knew she would know the outcome for his brother, but she did not look concerned. Just, tired.

"Tyrion, if you wouldn't mind, regal us with a story, I think.. I think we all need something to lift our spirits." Dany spoke softly, the first words from her mouth in the room. They echoed lightly off the walls of the hall. Tyrion nodded before walking closer to the fire, trying to think of a tale that could lift spirits.

Finally, with one in mind, he cleared his throat to speak, "a long time ago, what feels like ages, I remember the first time I came to Winterfell, with my brother, sister and her family, to see the Starks, Baratheon wanted Ned Stark as his hand, well, the Lannister's weren't pleased, for it should have been Tywin who was chosen, having been the hand previously before Jon Arryn, but Robert didn't care, he wanted Ned." there was a rumbling in the room as those from the north were uncomfortable with the topic.

Tyrion carried on. "That night, after I'd had my way with many a whore in the whore house, and far too much wine, I met a bastard, named Jon Snow." Tyrion felt a nostalgic grin come to his face, "it must be a trait, for all bastards lack in height, though none so much as myself." a chuckle ran through the room. "we spoke that night, so long ago, mundane things mostly, but I tell you what, if you all knew of the journey this man has taken, how he's grown," a shift to the side of him brought the Clegane and Podrick in, and following them, Jaime, Tyrion felt a real smile on his face, unable to keep the tremble of his relief from his voice, Tyrion almost couldnt think straight any longer and so chose to end the story before he'd even begun. "you still wouldn't be nearly as proud as I was, the man who stood guard while I pissed off the wall, the man who became lord Commander, the man, who killed the Night King, to him we are grateful." lifting his hand as if in a toast, "i suppose this means ill have to find a new place to dare to take a piss." Tyrion nodded at Jon, Jon looked confused, Tyrion felt his arm lowering at the look.


	4. Bran & Tormund

I dont own the charcters, thankfully, i couldnt afford them even if i wanted to :)

hitting a couple more PoVs and moving the story along.

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When Jon didn't immediately speak up, the chuckles Tyrion had drawn forth from the weary and emotionally confused crowd died down quite quickly. Bran made eye contact with his brother, and Jon spoke, "I.. Wasn't the one who ended the longest night." sharp intakes of breath were drawn in around the room.

Bran felt the tension in the room, however he easilly ignored it, sometimes the power of the Three Eyed Raven made such moments much more bearable than before. He knew the people in the room would draw their own conclusions, but a part of Bran knew he probably should stand up for his siblings. Things just seemed so complicated in his mind now.

With the Night King gone, it felt like, what he had been tasked with and all of the times he and his companions had been faced with the terror of the children of the forests' creation, were almost, for naught. It was over. But, Bran didn't feel, complete like he assumed he would.

While he had been warging earlier, he had looked across the nation, first at the Lannister Queen, and then across the seas. He had seen the Queen preparing her troops to begin their march north, not in alliance with the North, but to catch them off guard and wounded. But, what really drew his attention, and specifically the small part of him that still identified as Bran Stark, was the man crossing the sea, he had no face, and a will to kill. This man was headed for Winterfell to take the name of his sister.

Bran wanted to warg more, learn more about this man and what his plan could be, if there was a way to protect his already splintered family, he knew he needed to find it. Before he could tune out, a gruff voice broke through his mind.

The Hound had moved to his side, "you gonna tell them the truth about the icy little bitch?' Bran looked up at the man pensively. He noticed those near enough also heard and were looking at him with suspicion. Jon spoke first. "Bran, was it you or Theon that killed the Night King?" Bran looked confused; he had already told them. Repeating his words once again "It was Arya."

An "Oh" could be heard at the doorway, almost as if on command, the moment he had said her name, Arya appeared with Tormund behind her.

—-

Tormund was the first to react, "You adorable little beast you! Well done!" he grinned jovially before lifting the small fae and spinning her. When he placed her down before looking at the room, it seemed they were all there. But what drew his attention most, were the eyes, some looked happy, but the ones he knew no good could come from, were glaring at the little wolf next to him..

The Dragon queen, and the fire kissed beauty next to her were the ones who looked most perturbed by the information. He felt his grin fade, even his little crow did not seem joyous at the information.

A strong need to stand between the little beast and those in front of him rose. He had seen her face in the crypts, staring down at the bodies that had once laid at rest there, she was grieving so deeply, her family ripped apart, but she was the strongest little thing he had ever met, she worked quietly, her steps silent that he felt a bit spooked more than once when she appeared at his side to drag off another body. But she was a good person, she killed the Icy beast, divided up labor, led them to gather together, he was proud to know her. In the crypts, she had somehow been able to identfy a few of the bodies, placing them back in their places of rest, carefully lying them out and gently laying a weapon upon each of their chests.

She spoke softly when she noticed his watching her in the crypts "It used to be tradition to lay the Stark family to rest with an Iron Sword bearing one of their accomplishments, to not only protect them in the afterlife, but to give their souls meaning." Tormund could only grin at the little fae, so gentle, but obviously a hell of a fighter if she survived the night.

His lady knight had trusted this little wolf, so he would as well. Tormund positioned himself slightly in front of the small thing, he hadn't planned to live through the night anyway, so what was more chance at death if he protected her.

Little crow spoke up first "Arya, tell us, tell me it's not true, that you didn't risk your life to kill that thing." every female in the room turned to glare at the would be king of the north, as if the insinuation was that she couldn't have done it.

The little fae behind Tormund spoke up. "I would, but you and I both know I would be lying. I did what was required of me, a name was spoken, so a name was taken." she said with finality in her voice.

The bald man that had been standing near the fires with the babes spoke then, Tormund didn't think he'd ever heard a man speak so oddly in his life, and felt the feeling of confusion land on his face while he spoke "it would seem, that Little lady Arya Stark, the savior of the seven kingdoms, the Prince who was promised, spent some time with the House of Black and White." for the second time in as few minutes, Tormund heard gasps from around the room, only this time they were much louder, he had never heard of such a place, but everyone held looks on their faces that said this was not a good thing


	5. Daenerys

Here we go :) this chapter is all about our Dragon Queen, i felt like that heart breaking scene Emilia gave us deserved a bit of a moment. Dont own the characters, but G.R.R.M really needs to take better care of them imo XD

—-

Dany wasn't having the best of times, her closest and longest ally had just died in her arms. Jon had come to find her, but she hadn't been able to remove herself from Jorah's body. He had been the only man she knew that truly loved her for herself, and she had ruined him. Turned him down at every corner, thrown him away, but he still came back, he still protected her with his dying breath, and now, he was gone.

Jon had brought the blacksmith with him, she didn't quite understand why. But they had gently removed her from Jorah's body, Jon slowly easing Drogon out of the way while Gendry had lifted Jorah like the large man had weighed nothing and started for what still stood of the keep.

Jon guided her slowly, Dany felt like she wasn't really seeing anything, everything passing by in a blur, when Dany next looked up, there were at the entry way of the great hall, groups of survivors already there, sitting almost defeated at the table in silence. She saw movement, Tyrion had stood up, Jon guided her there, next to his sister, she made to stand, but Dany saw the weariness in her eyes and motioned for her to stay put.

Settling down, Dany felt a sigh release from her chest, trying not to think on anything, she took stock of everyone already in the room. More than she thought possible appeared to have made it it would seem. They all looked downtrodden, so Dany took a breath before asking Tyrion to speak, he had the power of his mind, he could use it to distract them all, if only for a moment.

She was interested in the story, not having known that the Old Lannister had once been Hand, or that the reason the Starks were all so hard was because the Usurper had taken their father. She would remember to ask Tyrion more later on, but she just wanted to rest for a while before taking stock of her own troops.

When Bran had said that it had been Jon's smallest sibling that killed the Night King, she was confused. While she wasn't happy that it could have been Jon, it at least meant either of them were the prince or princess that was promised, but for someone else to be, Dany saw how that could damage her claim.

Already the damage from the knowledge that there was a male heir haunted her mind, but that not even he had been the one to fulfill the prophecy confused her. Were all of those light followers lying to her all along? When the wildling that Jon was fond of appeared with the girl in question, Dany knew her mask fell, and some of her concerns must have shown on her face, but seeing such glee someone held for the small girl's accomplishment, made the truth starker. The people of the seven kingdoms would follow this girl, and in turn, she would be loyal to her family. Jon.

Dany felt more than heard the sigh that escaped the woman next to her. She shifted her eyes slowly to watch the young red head, Dany may not have liked the girl, but she had guts, and Dany respected her. The look on her face though as she stared her sister down though, made Dany wonder, would this be how she could convince the Starks to join her at last?

Dany tuned back into her surroundings, finding that time had passed apparently, she heard mention of the Assassins house in Braavos and the gasps all around her, she made eye contact with her hand who seemed to understand she hadn't quite been a part of the conversation, he shifted his gaze to the young girl, who now looked a bit sheepish.

Deciding to speak up as any proper Queen should, Dany said "Well, Lady Arya, we are grateful to you. As the savior of the Seven Kingdoms, we all owe you a great debt. Please, do not hesitate to ask me for anything, now or in the future." the younger girl nodded, looking very serious before stepping forward. She spoke with an authority that Dany knew only those who had faced death and lived could provide.

"We need to get a move on soon. Sorting through the bodies will take the longest. Identifying who we can and properly laying them to rest. I figure, if we move the bodies of the night king's original army outside the gates, we and the dragons and lay fire to them. Those who fought alongside us all, can be buried or lit aflame later one, they will have a long period before they start to smell much worse, at least we have the

winter on our side in this, the heat would make everything much worse. The freshest of the bodies, can be saved, we can use them to feed the dragons if it pleases your grace, that way we can save as much of the livestock as possible, we don't know how much longer we will have before Cersei's armies will march towards us, we should keep everything we can to stocks." Dany was surprised at the plan, it nearly sounded as well thought out as anything even her own hand could come up with.

With a nod and a faux confidence, Dany stood, "that sounds amenable, thank you Lady Arya for thinking of them, they faught well and might enjoy the break, they will be most gracious. I need to take stock of how many Dothraki and Unsullied I've lost, Grey Worm and Missandei, if you will lend me a hand?" and though it was posed as a question, Dany knew they understood, it was an order. She moved swiftly and more surely than she thought possible in that moment, moving to the door with the two at her back.

The night was well and truly over by this point, the sun high in the sky.


	6. Brienne & The Starks

Woo, talk about a week. work was dumb, so writing something thas not work related was good. i really just appreciate these characters.

And thank you everyone for the great feedback, i appreciate you all!

—-

Brienne knew she should be more surprised that Arya had been the one to kill the Night King, but truly, she wasn't. She had sparred with the small woman a time or two, and had seen her fighting on the walls earlier in battle, she was fierce thing, and even death would have a hard time quelling that fire. She looked around the room, first at her charge, Sansa looked lost, like she knew there was much to do, but didn't know where to start.

Then she moved, Podrick, oh how happy she felt at seeing him alive, how proud she had been watching him battle throughout the night. Jon looked pensive, as if he didn't want to be here anymore, Tormund had stuck to Arya's side, as if, to protect her from anyone who would question her plans. Brienne felt something in her chest at that moment, something like, kinship with the wildling.

Arya had moved forward to the stacks of bodies and ripped a piece of cloth from one, she walked to the fire and held the cloth above it for a moment before doing the same with a small knife she appeared to bring out of nowhere, only sticking the knife into the fire instead of above it. As quickly as the knife appeared in her hand, it landed on her forehead exactly where the blood streamed from her head. A shout of protest had left a few mouths, and motions had been made as if to stop her, but she just removed the knife and wiped the blood from her face with the heated towel. Seeing it now, Brienne could see where the blade had not only quelled the bleeding, but had closed the wound. Nodding her head in understanding for a moment before drawing in a breath.

With her deepest voice of command, Brienne spoke. "You all heard the lady, let's get a move on, everyone gather a body from the east side door and take them to the gates. Double up on a body if you must, take it slowly if you need, but please be careful everyone." as if her voice had snapped them all out of a daze, they all turned their heads to look at her, she gave a face of impatience at them all and everyone began moving towards the door, the only ones not moving were the Starks, the woman with the babes, Jaime and Tormund.

Oh Jaime, he had lived and Brienne could hardly control the desire to throw herself into his arms and profess the feelings she still wasn't sure how to put a name to. They had fought side by side in battle, often protecting one another and Podrick, but to have both made it out alive, it almost felt surreal.

With a nod at their eye contact, she moved to the door, hearing him following her, they each gathered two of the bone skeletons and maneuvered out the door and down the stairs towards the courtyard. She vaguely heard Arya ask Tormund if he alright or if the thought of touching more dead people had left him quivering in his boots, and the responding sounds of the strong wildling gathering probably too many bodies and slamming through the door like a bull proved that the man had fallen for the young woman's challenge, Brienne could only grin at the thought of how strong and brilliant both of her charges really were.

—

The tension in the room was palpable. Jon looked, frustrated, Sansa looked uncertain, Bran was staring at the wall in his creepy fashion and Arya was just trying not to close her eyes for too long for fear of falling into the pit that had been calling to her since she began the battle. The pit she had willfully named No One, the person she had left behind those months ago, that offered to help her tame the wild and rampant feelings inside, that offered solitude and freedom away from the politics of the world. The person she had been when she first arrived back in Winterfell.

Sansa was the first to break the silence, "I am grateful to all of you, for protecting Winterfell. We are Starks, this is what we were made for, and we all would have made father proud this night." she stood and started to walk towards the small pile of wights that still lay there, so few that it wouldn't be long before they started the process with the rest of the keep.

Bran spoke up before she got too far "Sansa, would you mind taking me to the courtyard? I want to help identify those around us if possible. The ravens will help me." there was a look of shock on her face before a small smile crossed her features, walking back to Bran, she stood behind his chair and pushed him back the way he came.

With Sansa and Bran out of the room, Jon finally looked up, looking at the small girl he could so easily remember still being 10 years old, running around the castle, mud everywhere and an infectious giggle echoing out behind her.

When Jon and Arya had reunited only about a week ago, he hadn't thought of her as a grown up, but instead still that little trouble maker of a girl that he had known. But now, he understood. She was a fighter, a woman grown, a killer, but she was still his sister, and he would be proud of whatever path she chose. He held his arms out to her, and once again, they were filled with his favorite person.

Arya knew she and Jon had an odd moment, she watched him deal with his feelings, afraid he would reject her now that he knew the truth, but he didn't, and it helped her. It helped her back away from the pit inside her, it helped her breath, it helped her live. When Jon held his arms open to her, she didn't think, just throwing herself into his arms like they had done time and time again.

Jon spoke into her hair "We're still going to talk about Gendry though. Since when has that been going on? I didn't even think you knew each other." Arya's chuckle was wet. Pulling back, she looked him in the eyes. "It's a bit of a long story, and there's still quite a lot we need to get done. But, I'll tell you, eventually." She said before pulling herself from his arms. He set her on the ground and she walked away without a sound.

She stooped at the door and grabbed hold two bodies, throwing one across her shoulders and grabbed the second through the bone at its shoulder, dragging it behind her through the door and out of Jon's sight. It only took him a moment to catch his breath, not realizing he hadn't taken air in since she left his arms and his sight. His little sister had truly grown up.

Following her, he took her lead and carried the last two bodies in the same fashion through the door and out into the world.


	7. The Hound & Gendry

Getting closer i think, maybe a few more chapters before the next episode and ill wrap it up. language from the hound of course, but he's such a complex character, it was enjoyable to write him. I will say, i feel like its important to write these characters with different forms of ptsd, shock and mourning. though it seems like a lot of people have a lot of feelings about the battle episode, all of these characters faced death and fear and i dont think theyd be able to just walk away from that with clear minds. anyway, enjoy :)

—-

Sandor knew he could have probably done more, but he also knew he was quite glad not to be dead. Even now, hours after the trench had been lit, he could hear his blood rushing through his ears like a waterfall, panic still laid siege on his mind, wary of not only the bodies that lay around him, but the small flames still peeking out of random places throughout the keep.

Sighing, Sandor lifted two more bodies from the middle of the courtyard and none so gently threw them across the open space, watching them land in the last open space next to the splintered doorway that led outside of the walls. He let his thoughts wander off as he repeated the process, not taking note of the Ginger haired menace watching his every move before joining in on the lift and throw method, only the large and strong men could accomplish.

The only clarity his mind held throughout the night, was to protect the little pain in the ass, that she had been able to defend herself so well, Sandor knew a part of him was proud, that the little spitfire from so long ago still had it.

Another part was weary, Sandor knew of the house of Black and White, hell, he'd contacted them once himself to find out how much it would cost to employ their services, maybe on his brother, maybe on one of the Lannister cunts.

In the end, he had decided that no matter how low he got, he could always look forward to watching the light leave their eyes because of his own doing. But he knew the tales of the assassin's house in the free city, often killing in the name of a god, he knew the truth though, they all killed because they enjoyed it.

He himself had it enjoyed it once upon a time, until the little runt and her sister had invaded his life and mind. He just hoped the little bitch could compartmentalize those feelings instead of falling into the same trap Sandor had fallen into himself.

Several bodies later, Sandor thought of his little bird, how strong she had become, remembering how gentle and soft natured she was, like the soft snow fall that fell so rarely in the south, nothing too damaging, pleasant enough to remind the mind, there was something else out there. Now though, she was a right proud bitch, like the ice storm he had faced on the other side of the wall.

Feeling something akin to a grin cross his features at the thought of the red headed lady, Sandor was broken by his thoughts by a rough voice near him, "Don't be grinnin at victory yet ya big bear."

Sandor looked around before meeting those bright blue eyes of the mad fucker, snarling, he responded "S'not a fucking competition, even if it was, a mad little cunt like you wouldn't win if he swore his soul to those damned gods everyone seems so fucking fond of"

The red headed wildling grinned at Sandor before grabbing a whole pile of bodies, their limbs dangling every which way, and running towards the gate and then through it. Sandor vaguely heard the little stag bastard grumble something before seeing the bright red hair running back through the gate with a wild grin.

With a sigh, Sandor stooped and lifted an arm full of bodies, moving towards the gate, he heard sputtering as the dumbass behind him toppled over after attempting to lift too many of the rotting bodies at once. Fighting the grin, he felt at the sheer stubbornness of the man, Sandor let the weight of the night fall from his shoulders. He had faced his fears for his icy little cunt, but he needed to get control of those same emotions, because soon, he had a bitch of a Mountain to face.

—

Gendry didn't know what the red wild man was doing when he appeared through the gates carrying too many bodies, but he did know he was a damn pain in the ass, dropping the bodies with little care of the system he had in place.

Gendry didn't consider himself to be, rigid, but so many years as a blacksmith, where the process was exact, had made him appreciate order more than anything. Suffice to say, following the night they had all had, where chaos had reigned supreme, Gendry felt the need for something to have order.

So, he had placed himself in charge of the portions taking place outside the walls of Winterfell. Laying the bodies neatly on the other side of the trenches, so that, as time went on, they could start stacking more on top of one another without massive piles of the undead.

He knew this would help them later on, if the dragons torched too close to the walls of the keep, it could damage the walls, but if they did so on the other side of the trench, it would purify the lands too, they could plant there once the mess was cleaned. Gendry found it was fitting that the sight of such death and destruction could soon be a place for growth and life.

Feeling a chuckle, it was sort of like his Lady in a way. That she could be so open and passionate so early in the evening when they had been alone in the store rooms, but then, he had seen her fighting the dead on the opposite wall, she was so fierce and precise, eyes guarded as she took down more of the bodies than just about everyone else.

And watching her swing the weapon he had made for her around like she had, well, Gendry could still feel a bit of a blush warming his ears. It had almost been the death of him, so focused on her, he hadn't even noticed the dead man about to stab him in the neck until Jaime Lannister had chopped it's head off with a wild swing of his sword.

Even now, while helping the few soldiers of the Vale who had volunteered to help lay and stack the bodies into rows, Gendry could feel himself in wonderment at the fact that not only was he still alive. Arya was as well; he couldn't help but wonder what would happen now that they had both lived through the night. He wondered if their moment in the store rooms was just a rite of passage she had needed someone to help her through.

Worried that maybe he had taken too many liberties earlier by kissing her in front of the others, but he hadn't been able to help himself, he had been overcome with the feelings he once had as a young boy when they had been on the road together, entrusted with her deepest secret.

Gendry looked around to see if he could find the small but deadly woman, not seeing her anywhere, he sighed, but the Hound had seen.

"She's inside, said something about the bodies of the fallen should be properly cleaned or some shit. Holed herself up in one of the stables, has a fuckin line of people workin for her, bringin bodies and water like a fuckin herd." the Hound said gruffly before dropping his arm load of bodies, he turned and walked away just as quickly as he appeared.

Gendry just shook his head before getting back to work, they needed to get as much out and done before the sun got too high in the sky, that way the rotting wouldn't be too bad and they could escape the potential rats and other vermin that would descend soon onto the victims of the Night King


	8. Missandei & Jaime

In my travels back and forth to work downtown, I've often passed a woman who walks (she may be homeless, but i kind of dont think so) and she has a small elderly dog that the woman has acquired a fairly nice childrens stroller to push the dog around in, and i dont know if ive ever connected with an energy more.

On with story, hoping to finish it up before the new episode.

—-

The only break Gendry and his workers had taken had been when the Dragon Queen and Missandei came around with some of the larger children, giving out bowls of porridge and cups of warmed water. Gendry saw the odd looks the Queen had given him as she herself gave him his bowl, not thinking on it, he gratefully accepted the offering, turning to look out at the men around him as they playfully interacted with the children.

Missandei was the only person in the vicinity that saw her Queen's look of indecisiveness, one she hadn't seen in quite a while. So she was only slightly concerned while watching Dany watch the blacksmith, but then the Queen spoke. "I didn't thank you earlier, blacksmith, for bringing Jorah back to the keep with us. He meant a great deal to me and... I... I didn't actually ever think there would be a world in which I existed with the knowledge, that he no longer didn't." Dany stuttered over her words, voice breaking in emotion.

Concerned for her Queen, Missandei stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder, but the blacksmith turned to them, a stern look on his features, it looked odd on the generally relaxed face.

"Your Grace, there's something I should tell you before you thank me, I was advised not to bring it up, but, I don't feel comfortable accepting your gratitude without you knowing. I am one of Robert Baratheon's bastards, the last of them if the red woman is to be believed. I don't have a desire for the throne, and to be completely honest, I don't want to take part in another war, but I will, because I pledged myself a long time ago to righting what my father did wrong, and the Mad Queen is part of that."

By the end of his speech, he had bowed his head in deference to the Dragon Queen, knowing that, with this knowledge, she could choose to kill him, but hoping that, after the night they had all had, she would pardon him. Missandei could see the hope in his eyes before he lowered his head even more.

She was well aware of the implications the man could have to her Queen's claim on the throne, after all, if she understood the history correctly, this blacksmiths' father had been the usurper to her Queen's father, claiming the throne for himself and the people had followed him. What would happen if they choose to follow the stag line once again?

Missandei was startled from her thoughts when Daenerys spoke, voice like steel, "Raise your head and face your queen Usurper's son. If what you tell me is true, I should be concerned, after all, if the people of the seven kingdoms knew of you, who's to say they wouldn't choose to follow you instead?" Dany paused, face grim.

Missandei didn't know where her queen was going with this, part of her hoped that Dany recognized the need to keep as many allies as possible on her side, but the logical part understood where her Queen's fears were coming from well. She was surprised though when the queen spoke once again.

"With that being said, do you Gendry Baratheon, legitimized son of Robert Baratheon pledge yourself to me and my cause to ride this world of the Mad Queen and return the Iron throne to its proper owners? Here in front of these Knights, and the peoples of the North, do you pledge to be my Royal Blacksmith, creating blades and weapons for my cause until there is not more battle to be fought?" Daenerys sounded so regal in that moment, even Missandei, who had been with her queen for so long, was still moved to follow such a powerful woman.

Looking at the young man in front of them, he had widened eyes filled with water, Missandei could understand, he had just been legitimized by the woman who had the most reason to hate his father, she had placed a level of trust in him that so far, no one else had. Missandei knew it could be overwhelming, to be on the receiving end of such faith, but Daenerys was always good at making people believe in her, even when they may have been skeptical beforehand.

Gendry spoke, voice clear, "Your Grace, I, don't even know where to begin, I never thought I would be legitimized on day, even with the knowledge that the previous 'Baratheons' that took the throne were not my fathers' children, I never thought I could live up to the name in this world. I do have to admit something though Your Grace, a long time ago I promised to fight for Lady Arya, she saved me in more ways than one, I would be happy to forge as many weapons as you'll need for however long you need them your Grace, but, I feel like I need to also be able to care for the first Lady in my heart. If you find that amenable, I will happily pledge myself to you."

—

Jaime watched patiently as the Dragon Queen and her councilwoman stared down the younger man, curiosity getting the best of him. He spoke before Daenerys was able to speak herself. "How did you know that neither Joffrey or Tommen were not Baratheon?"

Jaime saw the eyes of both women turn to look at him, questions in their eyes as if they too wished to know. The blacksmith just shrugged his shoulders "Ned Stark came to my master's forge a long time ago, asking about me, I didn't understand then, but then, there were whispers all over flea bottom the days following. Soon, it was known that he was put to death, I even watched it happen. Then, when I saw King Robert's brothers, I knew the truth, neither Joffrey or Tommen looked a thing like them, too blonde, too fair and thin. Us Baratheon's are built for strength. You Lions? Built to look pretty and throw their weight around just because they feel it's their due."

This Baratheon boy had thrown the gauntlet in challenge, questioning the Lannister line, but, Jaime didn't have the strength to deny the claims. He could feel they had started draw a crowd, everyone wanting to see the commotion with the Dragon Queen in the center. He could even see his brother joining the crowd, a guarded look in his eye.

"I wont lie, they were my children, Cersei and I, we thought we were in love, that love brought our children into the world. It crushed my heart to watch them grow up believing they belonged to another. But that's in the past. The Lannister name died with my father, with little hope of ever regaining it's power again." Jaime had sighed out the rest of his statement, regret burgeoning inside his soul.

Looking around the crowd, he finally saw her, Brienne had appeared in the crowd with Sansa Stark at her side, both of them looked as if they had been crying. Jaime felt a clenching in his chest. "when I pledged to fight for the side of the living, I renounced all other claims I'd made previously, including those to Cersei. I will continue to fight for you your grace, so long as you will have me."

Jaime made eye contact with Brienne, he saw apprehension in her eyes, he understood her fear. It was one thing for the Dragon Queen to accept him when the war was against the dead, but another when it was against his own sister. Looking to Tyrion, he saw fear in his eyes, the same fear Jaime felt in his chest.

Suddenly, the crowd cleared, Jon Snow had joined the party, quietly watching to see what would happen. Afterall, if things didn't go a way he liked, he could always withdraw the north's support. The Dragon Queen spotted him, standing amongst the living in front of a field of the dead. Almost all movement around the keep had been halted, everyone watching the scene unfold with baited breath.

Finally, the Queen spoke. "Lord Gendry Baratheon, and Ser Jaime Lannister, I, Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. Mother of Dragons. The Unburnt. Breaker of Chains. Lady of Dragonstone. Do hereby accept your loyalties, I hope to be a just and fair ruler, I will listen to you both with respect and dignity. I expect each of you to live up to your names, for Storms End and Casterly Rock will need new lords to guide them soon enough."

The queen turned to look at the crowd, and Jaime heard the beginnings of her speech, but he couldn't process the words, she had accepted him, he had killed her father, and she still accepted him. Relief flooded his veins, nearly identical to the relief he had felt just hours ago when the dead had stopped moving and he and Brienne had both still been standing.

Jaime saw the crowds dispersing, but had no inkling of what was said, he quickly thanked the Dragon Queen and walked to where he saw Brienne following Sansa. Quickly catching them, he threw out his hand to catch her. She tensed at first, but looked at him and relaxed quickly. Sansa had seen the interaction "Find me later Ser Brienne and we can speak about you taking a long vacation when the war is officially over." with a dry smile, the lady of Winterfell glided away.

Brienne caught his eye before guiding the him off to the side out of the way of those still hard at work and any prying eyes and ears. Once settled, they both attempted to speak, but stopped in awkward silence, Jaime broke it first, his curiosity getting the best of him. "if you don't mind my asking, what caused your tears Lady Knight?l"

"not at all, Lady Stark and I went to view and pay our respects to Theon Greyjoy, it would seem there were some deep emotions Lady Stark had buried concerning the boy, suffice to say, it was a bit heart wrenching to take in. I believe its partially to blame that i'm still feeling a sort of series of... aftershocks from the battles."

Jaime could see her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she attempted to use logic for her feelings. But he couldn't shake the relief that flooded his gut, he wasn't the only one still having trouble getting past this battle. This was an unfamiliar notion to the war experienced knight, not even the days following the loss of his hand had felt this delirious.

Brienne began to open her mouth, eyes set in determination, but Jaime cut her off. "My Lady Knight. Brienne. i need to tell you, i've only just begun to understand the feelings i've felt for so long are indeed changing, im learning and growing. But I still need time, I...It doesn't feel right to make promises or declare anything in this moment, especially when we dont know how the next battle may turn out."

Jaime looked down with a sigh before swiftly grabbing her hand and leaving a chaste kiss upon her knuckles, "But i would like you to know i understand, no matter your choices, if they include waiting for me, or if you find someone much more worthy of you in the mean time i will support you."

Brienne nodded at him and she flashed him an understanding grin. Jaime felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders that had been crushing him since an unknown point the evening before. Soon both knights were in a companionable silence, both slowly lulling into the exhaustion beginning to creep into their souls.

A high pitched scream coming from the direction of the stables gave both knights swift kicks of adrenaline as they raced to find the cause of the commotion.


	9. Sam & The cliff

Thank you everyone for the reviews! i apprieciate you all for accompanying me on my journey back into writing none work or acedimically related things.

I had a goal in mind to wrap this up before the episode tonight, and i felt comfortable with the ending of this chapter, open ended, almost a cliff hanger, it just felt right for the potential all of our favorites have, i didnt want to box them in too much.

We'll just have to see how tonight goes!

—

Samwell Tarly knew he wasn't much of a fighter, but he was a man of the Nightswatch, and as such, pledged himself to the promise of protecting the relms from the world beyond the wall. Be it wildlings, night walkers, wights or even spiders the size of dogs.

Samwell Tarly was smart, he knew this. He understood logical thinking and feelings, understanding that just because something is politically right, didn't make it morally right was something he prided himself on.

But, Sam knew in his soul, halfway through the battle, he was going to die. When Edd took a blow that should have killed Sam, he felt like his world was turned upside down. The last of the true Nightswatchmen had died, and there was nothing Sam could do about it. Sam had lost hope, he had vaguely been aware of the battle still taking place in Winterfell all around him, but it had felt...hopeless.

Imagine his surprise when Sam awoke to find daylight streaming across the skies. Feeling for all of his limbs, Sam didn't know what had woken him, or how he lived, maybe he himself was a wight and he would be forced to watch as his own hand killed those around him. No, he could still wiggle his fingers and his toes.

An exhuberent feeling cascaded down his spine sending tingles across his appendages. Sam was alive. He tried to lift his head to look around, maybe find the cause for his abrupt awakening.

To his left, he saw movement in the corner of his eye, people were walking away from him. Placing his head back down to rest and gain the fortitude necessary to get up and see the damages still laying rampant, Sam felt his eyes lulling. He knew he needed to find Gilly and little Sam, but, he was so cold, wouldn't it be easier to find them when he was warm.

Suddenly a head appeared in his vision, holding a washcloth and rag, he felt the rag hit skin. Sam's eyes widened, he was naked, that's why he was so cold! Quickly bursting up with unknown speed, he looked at the figure that had been wiping his leg down. Arya Stark turned to look at him, a look in her eye, almost like she no longer felt, well, anything. Sam felt panic stab into his bones. He was naked in front of his best friends' little sister.

His feelings were made known, almost by an uncontrollable force, let loose by a scream leaving his vocal chords.

Arya broke him from his scream with a deadened look. "Are you finished? There's a pile of clothes over there, go and find some that will fit, I would suggest post haste as that girlish scream will have plenty of people rushing here, wouldn't want even more people to see your bits now would you?"

She dropped the rag into a bowl that was on the ground, copper colored liquid splashing out onto the ground. She walked silently, so silent, Sam worried she might actually be a white walker, but knew that this was just one of the many faces of Arya Stark.

Sam felt his voice speak before his brain comprehended the words "So we won... Obviously... How exactly did I come to be here, naked, with you? And what exactly are you doing? Did you learn to heal others while away for so long? Is Jon still alive? Oh.. I almost hope not.. If he finds out I was naked with his sister, I wont have to worry about being alive, ill be dead... Oh, how are the people in the crypts, are they safe? Gods I hope so, I don't know what I would do if Gilly or Little Sam had been hurt."

By this point, Arya had gathered a cloak and breeches for the man, thrown them his way and left the stable area. The only reason the man had stopped talking had been when the breeches had slapped him in the face.

All of a sudden, there was a commotion, at least fifteen sets of eyes were now looking at him, thankfully the cloak now covering his bits, they were all looking at him as if he had grown an extra head.

Before Sam could read too much into their expressions, Gilly pushed through the crowd and nearly tackled Sam off of the wooden table he still sat upon. His face was peppered with kisses, and Sam knew he had tears in his eyes. Gilly was alive, he was alive, the living had won.

—

Jon soon burst through the crowd, and upon seeing the reunion between the couple, shuffled everyone and their prying eyes away from the stable turned sanctuary. While he had been happy to see his friend was in fact alive, he couldn't help but wonder, 'where had Arya gone?'

He walked the opposite direction of where the crowds had gone, an unspoken agreement amongst everyone to take a well deserved break, fetching water and food, maybe take a few hours to sleep. But, Jon felt it in his soul, he needed to find his sister.

Jon walked past the bodies that Arya had already cleansed, blood and grime cleared from their bodies and faces. Cloths wrapped around them to protect their dignities, even in death. She had even requested that any of the unnecessary dragon glass weapons, be left to the side so they could be buried with the dead.

Confused where she had learned such customs, but chalking it up to the same place she learned to kill as she had. Jon tried to push aside the bubble of something that stuck in his throat at the thought. All of his siblings had had to grow up far too quickly. And now, he had the opportunity to protect them and any others that might have to face such moments in the future, and by the damned gods, he was going to take it.

Finally, Jon managed to find his smallest but deadliest sibling, she was staring down at the body of Theon. She had no emotion in her eyes, just watching him. She pulled out a dagger, and bent towards the body, slicing underneath the jaw, around the ears and to the back of his skull.

Jon felt bile replace the bubble in his throat. Before he could step forward and question her though. Gendry appeared.

"My Lady, I had hoped to speak with you. I felt like, I needed to apologize for my actions earlier, I shouldn't have taken such liberties with you while in front of your brother." Gendry spoke softly

Jon was almost relieved to hear the apology, but frowned, Arya still barely moved away from the body, knife still at the ready, but then, he saw a shift in her body, like some wave had washed through her.

He vaguely saw tears gathering in her eyes, and Jon felt his instinct begin to take root in his gut. But Arya spoke before he could move from his hidden spot. "I've told you before, don't call me that, besides, what's a kiss between two people who shared what we did last night?" She had tried to lighten the mood; Jon could hear her typical humorous tone.

But he held back the growl at the knowledge they had progressed their relationship farther than he knew. Gendry was still looking at Arya like she would break. Slowly, as if getting near a flighty creature, Gendry moved towards Arya. Finally, he captured her in his arms.

Arya attempted to fight him off, but he had managed to gather her in his arms, blocking the use of her own arms. Jon knew she probably still could have taken down the stag if she truly wanted, but she calmed quickly enough he didn't feel the pressing need to intervene.

When he saw Gendry comforting his sister, body wracking sobs coursing through her, Jon turned and walked back the way he came. Even with his brother senses telling him to turn back and remove the man from his sister, he knew this was a moment she needed. She needed to grieve, and with the person she felt connected to.

Jon moved swiftly, he felt like he needed to find the one he was connected to as well. While he didn't know what they would do or where they would go from here, Dany was his family now, and before he

had known she was his blood, she had been the person he thought he might spend the rest of his life with, the first woman he envisioned that with since Ygritte. That had to count for something.

Come hell or high water, Jon wasn't about to lose any more family if he could help it.


End file.
